CHAPTER XXI

  THE ROSE

  The next morning Aunt Fanny had a hard time of it. Her mistress waspetulant; there was no sunshine in the bright August day as it appearedto her. Toward dawn, after she had counted many millions of black sheepjumping backward over a fence, she had fallen asleep. Aunt Fanny obeyedher usual instructions on this luckless morning. It was Beverly's ruleto be called every morning at seven o'clock. But how was her attendantto know that the graceful young creature who had kicked the counterpaneto the foot of the bed and had mauled the pillow out of all shape, hadslept for less than thirty minutes? How was she to know that the flushedface and frown were born in the course of a night of distressingperplexities? She knew only that the sleeping beauty who lay before herwas the fairest creature in all the universe. For some minutes AuntFanny stood off and admired the rich youthful glory of the sleeper,prophetically reluctant to disturb her happiness. Then she obeyed theimpulse of duty and spoke the summoning words.

  "Wha--what time is it?" demanded the newcomer from the land of Nod,stretching her fine young body with a splendid but discontented yawn.

  "Seben, Miss Bev'ly; wha' time do yo' s'pose hit is? Hit's d' reg'lahtime, o' co'se. Did yo' all have a nice sleep, honey?" and Aunt Fannywent blissfully about the business of the hour.

  "I didn't sleep a wink, confound it," grumbled Beverly, rubbing her eyesand turning on her back to glare up at the tapestry above the couch.

  "Yo' wasn' winkin' any when Ah fust come into de room, lemme tell yo',"cackled Aunt Fanny with caustic freedom.

  "See here, now, Aunt Fanny, I'm not going to stand any lecture from youthis morning. When a fellow hasn't slept a--"

  "Who's a-lecturin' anybody, Ah'd lak to know? Ah'm jes' tellin' yo'what yo' was a-doin' when Ah came into de room. Yo' was a-sleepin'p'etty doggone tight, lemme tell yo'. Is yo' goin' out fo' yo' walkbefo' b'eakfus, honey? 'Cause if yo' is, yo' all 'll be obleeged toclimb out'n dat baid maghty quick-like. Yo' baf is ready, Miss Bev'ly."

  Beverly splashed the water with unreasonable ferocity for a few minutes,trying to enjoy a diversion that had not failed her until this morning.

  "Aunt Fanny," she announced, after looking darkly through her windowinto the mountains above, "if you can't brush my hair--ouch!--any easierthan this, I'll have someone else do it, that's all. You're a regularold bear."

  "Po' lil' honey," was all the complacent "bear" said in reply, withoutaltering her methods in the least.

  "Well," said Beverly threateningly, with a shake of her head, "becareful, that's all. Have you heard the news?"

  "Wha' news, Miss Bev'ly?"

  "We're going back to Washin'ton."

  "Thank de Lawd! When?"

  "I don't know. I've just this instant made up my mind. I think we'llstart--let's see: this is the sixth of August, isn't it? Well, look andsee, if you don't know, stupid. The tenth? My goodness, where has thetime gone, anyway? Well? we'll start sometime between the eleventh andthe twelfth."

  "Of dis monf, Miss Bev'ly?"

  "No; September. I want you to look up a timetable for me to-day. We mustsee about the trains."

  "Dey's on'y one leavin' heah daily, an' hit goes at six in demo'nin'. One train a day! Ain' 'at scan'lous?"

  "I'm sure, Aunt Fanny, it is their business--not ours," said Beverlyseverely.

  "P'raps dey mought be runnin' a excuhsion 'roun' 'baout Septembeh, MissBev'ly," speculated Aunt Fanny consolingly. "Dey gen'ly has 'em inSeptembeh."

  "You old goose," cried Beverly, in spite of herself.

  "Ain' yo' habin' er good time, honey?"

  "No, I am not."

  "Fo' de lan's sake, Ah wouldn' s'picioned hit fo' a minnit. Hit's degayest place Ah mos' eveh saw--'cept Wash'ton an' Lex'ton an'Vicksbu'g."

  "Well, you don't know everything," said Beverly crossly. "I wish you'dtake that red feather out of my hat--right away."

  "Shall Ah frow hit away, Miss Bev'ly?"

  "We--ll, no; you needn't do that," said Beverly, "Put it on mydressing-table. I'll attend to it."

  "Wha's become o' de gemman 'at wo' hit in the fust place? Ah ain' seenhim fo' two--three days."

  "I'm sure I don't know. He's probably asleep. That class of people neverlose sleep over anything."

  "'E's er pow'ful good-lookin' pusson," suggested Aunt Fanny. Beverly'seyes brightened.

  "Oh, do you think so?" she said, quite indifferently. "What are youdoing with that hat?"

  "Takin' out de featheh--jes' as--"

  "Well, leave it alone. Don't disturb my things, Aunt Fanny. How manytimes must I tell you--"

  "Good Lawd!" was all that Aunt Fanny could say.

  "Don't forget about the time-tables," said Beverly, as she sallied forthfor her walk in the park.

  In the afternoon she went driving with Princess Yetive and the youngDuke of Mizrox, upon whose innocent and sufficiently troubled head shewas heaping secret abuse because of the news he brought. Later, CountMarlanx appeared at the castle for his first lesson in poker. He lookedso sure of himself that Beverly hated him to the point of desperation.At the same time she was eager to learn how matters stood withBaldos. The count's threat still hung over her head, veiled by itsridiculous shadow of mercy. She knew him well enough by this time tofeel convinced that Baldos would have to account for his temerity,sooner or later. It was like the cat and the helpless mouse.

  "It's too hot," she protested, when he announced himself ready for thegame. "Nobody plays poker when it's 92 in the shade."

  "But, your highness," complained the count, "war may break out anyday. I cannot concede delay."

  "I think there's a game called 'shooting craps,'" suggested sheserenely. "It seems to me it would be particularly good forwarriors. You could be shooting something all the time."

  He went away in a decidedly irascible frame of mind. She did not knowit, but Baldos was soon afterward set to work in the garrison stables, amost loathsome occupation, in addition to his duties as a guard bynight.

  After mature deliberation Beverly set herself to the task of writinghome to her father. It was her supreme intention to convince him thatshe would be off for the States in an amazingly short time. The major,upon receiving the letter three weeks later, found nothing in it towarrant the belief that she was ever coming home. He did observe,however, that she had but little use for the army of Graustark, and wasespecially disappointed in the set of men Yetive retained as her privateguard. For the life of her, Beverly could not have told why shedisapproved of the guard in general or in particular, but she wasconscious of the fact, after the letter was posted, that she had saidmany things that might have been left unwritten. Besides, it was notBaldos's fault that she could not sleep; it was distinctly her own. Hehad nothing to do with it.

  "I'll bet father will be glad to hear that I am coming home," she saidto Yetive, after the letter was gone.

  "Oh, Beverly, dear, I hate to hear of your going," cried the princess."When did you tell him you'd start?"

  "Why, oh,--er--let me see; when _did_ I say? Dash me--asMr. Anguish would say--I don't believe I gave a date. It seems to me Isaid _soon_, that's all."

  "You don't know how relieved I am," exclaimed Yetive rapturously? andBeverly was in high dudgeon because of the implied reflection, "Ibelieve you are in a tiff with Baldos," went on Yetive airily.

  "Goodness! How foolish you can be at times, Yetive," was what Beverlygave back to her highness, the Princess of Graustark.

  Late in the evening couriers came in from the Dawsbergen frontier withreports which created considerable excitement in castle and armycircles. Prince Gabriel himself had been seen in the northern part ofhis domain, accompanied by a large detachment of picked soldiers. Lorryset out that very night for the frontier, happy in the belief thatsomething worth while was about to occur. General Marlanx issued ordersfor the Edelweiss army corps to mass beyond the southern gates of thecity the next morning. Commands were also sent to the outlyinggarrisons. There was to be a general movement of troops before the endof th
e week. Graustark was not to be caught napping.

  Long after the departure of Lorry and Anguish, the princess sat on thebalcony with Beverly and the Countess Dagmar. They did not talkmuch. The mission of these venturesome young American husbands was fullof danger. Something in the air had told their wives that the firstblows of war were to be struck before they looked again upon the menthey loved.

  "I think we have been betrayed by someone," said Dagmar, after an almostinterminable silence. Her companion did not reply. "The couriers saythat Gabriel knows where we are weakest at the front and that he knowsour every movement. Yetive, there is a spy here, after all."

  "And that spy has access to the very heart of our deliberations," addedBeverly pointedly. "I say this in behalf of the man whom you evidentlysuspect, countess. _He_ could not know these things."

  "I do not say that he does know, Miss Calhoun, but it is not beyondreason that he may be the go-between, the means of transferringinformation from the main traitor to the messengers who await outsideour walls."

  "Oh, I don't believe it!" cried Beverly hotly.

  "I wonder if these things would have happened if Baldos had never cometo Edelweiss?" mused the princess. As though by common impulse, both ofthe Graustark women placed their arms about Beverly.

  "It's because we have so much at stake, Beverly, dear," whisperedDagmar. "Forgive me if I have hurt you."

  Of course, Beverly sobbed a little in the effort to convince them thatshe did not care whom they accused, if he proved to be the right man inthe end. They left her alone on the balcony. For an hour after midnightshe sat there and dreamed. Everyone was ready to turn againstBaldos. Even she had been harsh toward him, for had she not seen himrelegated to the most obnoxious of duties after promising him a fardifferent life? And now what was he thinking of her? His descent fromfavor had followed upon the disclosures which made plain to each theidentity of the other. No doubt he was attributing his degradation, in asense, to the fact that she no longer relished his services, having seena romantic little ideal shattered by his firm assertions. Of course, sheknew that General Marlanx was alone instrumental in assigning him to theunpleasant duty he now observed, but how was Baldos to know that she wasnot the real power behind the Iron Count?

  A light drizzle began to fall, cold and disagreeable. There were nostars, no moon. The ground below was black with shadows, but shimmeringin spots touched by the feeble park lamps. She retreated through herwindow, determined to go to bed. Her rebellious brain, however, refusedto banish him from her thoughts. She wondered if he were patroling thecastle grounds In the rain, in all that lonely darkness. Seized by asudden inspiration, she threw a gossamer about her, grasped an umbrellaand ventured out upon the balcony once more. Guiltily she searched thenight through the fine drizzling rain; her ears listened eagerly for thetread which was so well known to her.

  At last he strode beneath a lamp not far away. He looked up, but, ofcourse, could not see her against the dark wall. For a long time hestood motionless beneath the light. She could not help seeing that hewas dejected, tired, unhappy. His shoulders drooped, and there as ageneral air of listlessness about the figure which had once been so fullof courage and of hope. The post light fell directly upon his face. Itwas somber, despondent, strained. He wore the air of a prisoner. Herheart went out to him like a flash. The debonair knight of the blackpatch was no more; in his place there stood a sullen slave todiscipline.

  "Baldos!" she called softly, her voice penetrating the dripping air withthe clearness of a bell. He must have been longing for the sound of it,for he started and looked eagerly in her direction. His tall formstraightened as he passed his hand over his brow. It was but a voicefrom his dream, he thought. "Aren't you afraid you'll get wet?" askedthe same low, sweet voice, with the suggestion of a laugh behindit. With long strides he crossed the pavement and stood almost directlybeneath her.

  "Your highness!" he exclaimed gently, joyously. "What are you doing outthere?"

  "Wondering, Baldos--wondering what you were thinking of as you stoodunder the lamp over there."

  "I was thinking of your highness," he called up, softly.

  "No, no!" she protested.

  "I, too, was wondering--wondering what you were dreaming of as youslept, for you should be asleep at this hour, your highness, instead ofstanding out there in the rain."

  "Baldos," she called down tremulously, "you don't like this work, doyou?"

  "It has nothing but darkness in it for me. I never see the light of youreyes. I never feel the--"

  "Sh! You must not talk like that. It's not proper, and besides someonemay be listening. The night has a thousand ears--or is it eyes? Butlisten: to-morrow you shall be restored to your old duties. You surelycannot believe that I had anything to do with the order which compelsyou to work at this unholy hour."

  "I was afraid you were punishing me for my boldness. My heart has beensore--you never can know how sore. I was disgraced, dismissed,forgotten--"

  "No, no--you _were_ not! You must not say that. Go away now,Baldos. You will ride with me to-morrow," she cried nervously. "Pleasego to some place where you won't get dripping wet."

  "You forget that I am on guard," he said with a laugh. "But you are awise counsellor. Is the rain so pleasant to you?"

  "I have an umbrella," she protested. "What are you doing?" she cried inalarm. He was coming hand over hand, up the trellis-work that enclosedthe lower verandah.

  "I am coming to a place where I won't get dripping wet," he calledsoftly. There was a dangerous ring in his voice and she drew back in apanic.

  "You must not!" she cried desperately. "This is madness! Go down, sir!"

  "I am happy enough to fly, but cannot. So I do the next best thing--Iclimb to you." His arm was across the stone railing by this time and hewas panting from the exertion, not two feet from where shecrouched. "Just one minute of heaven before I go back to the shadow ofearth. I am happy again. Marlanx told me you had dismissed me. I wonderwhat he holds in reserve for me. I knew he lied, but it is not until nowthat I rejoice. Come, you are to shield me from the rain."

  "Oh, oh!" she gasped, overwhelmed by his daring passion. "I should dieif anyone saw you here." Yet she spasmodically extended the umbrella sothat it covered him and left her out in the drizzle.

  "And so should I," responded he softly. "Listen to me. For hours andhours I have been longing for the dear old hills in which you foundme. I wanted to crawl out of Edelweiss and lose myself forever in therocks and crags. To-night when you saw me I was trying to say good-byeto you forever. I was trying to make up my mind to desert. I could notendure the new order of things. You had cast me off. My friends outthere were eager to have me with them. In the city everyone is ready tocall me a spy--even you, I thought. Life was black and drear. Now, myprincess, it is as bright as heaven itself."

  "You must not talk like this," she whispered helplessly. "You are makingme sorry I called to you."

  "I should have heard you if you had only whispered, my rain princess. Ihave no right to talk of love--I am a vagabond; but I have a heart, andit is a bold one. Perhaps I dream that I am here beside you--so nearthat I can touch your face--but it is the sweetest of dreams. But for itI should have left Edelweiss weeks ago. I shall never awaken from thisdream; you cannot rob me of the joys of dreaming."

  Under the spell of his passion she drew nearer to him as he clungstrongly to the rail. The roses at her throat came so close that hecould bury his face in them. Her hand touched his cheek, and he kissedits palm again and again, his wet lips stinging her blood to the tips ofher toes.

  "Go away, please," she implored faintly. "Don't you see that you mustnot stay here--now?"

  "A rose, my princess,--one rose to kiss all through the long night," hewhispered. She could feel his eyes burning into her heart. Withtrembling, hurried fingers she tore loose a rose. He could not seize itwith his hands because of the position he held, and she laughedtantalizingly. Then she kissed it first and pressed it against hismouth. His lips and t
eeth closed over the stem and the rose was his.

  "There are thorns," she whispered, ever so softly.

  "They are the riches of the poor," he murmured with difficulty, but sheunderstood.

  "Now, go," she said, drawing resolutely away. An instant later his headdisappeared below the rail. Peering over the side she saw his figurespring easily to the ground, and then came the rapid, steady tramp as hewent away on his dreary patrol.

  "I couldn't help it," she was whispering to herself between joy andshame.

  Glancing instinctively out toward the solitary lamp she saw two menstanding in its light. One of them was General Marlanx; the other sheknew to be the spy that watched Baldos. Her heart sank like lead whenshe saw that the two were peering intently toward the balcony where shestood, and where Baldos had clung but a moment before.